Torn
by 4ever-write
Summary: Rewind time back to the first series, during The Titan's Curse. What really happened when Annabeth was Luke's prisoner? Could there have been a few details she might have withheld from Percy?
1. Chapter 1

AN: This won't be super long, but I've always found Annabeth's history with Luke interesting. This jumps right into the scene we got to see in a dream of Percy's where Annabeth helps Luke hold up the sky. Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, bla bla bla etc.

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><p><strong>Annabeth<strong>

_"Please."_

Of course I don't hesitate to rush forward as Luke's knees buckle. Suddenly I am face with a pain that shatters my very mind as the sky rests upon my shoulders. He was begging for help, abandoned by his fellow soldiers to bear this weight alone.

It all seemed so simple a few minutes ago. I blacked out in a battle against a manticore while rescuing half bloods at a military school. I woke up near the top of Mt. Tamalpais in San Francisco, hearing low moans above me. I saw Luke, crushed under funnel clouds meant for a Titan, and suddenly nothing mattered but saving him.

My bones split and my head explodes. I used to think doing fifty push-ups with a migraine was torture. Naive doesn't even begin to explain it. I kneel there for a century, though the sun that was already low never sets. Then I hear voices.

Through a haze of hurt I hear Luke telling a young girl he calls Artemis that I've been here for days, that she can either save me or leave me here to die. And then the sky is off of me.

Bliss is the best word I can think of. Relief certainly works to describe it, too, though even that's an understatement. When I can feel my body again, I'm aware of sturdy but gentle arms carrying me down the mountain. Luke's voice, softly caressing my ear that isn't leaning against his chest, mumbles, "I'm so sorry," over and over.

He's sorry?! Where were his apologies when he left camp to join the enemy without warning? Where was his "I'm sorry" when I sat alone in my cabin, wasting the days while I desperately held onto that last I-love-you he gave me before he disappeared past Half-blood Hill forever? And he could have at least offered a word of explanation for poisoning Thalia's tree last summer! Did "we're your family now" mean nothing to him? Were those kisses on New Years just for the experience? And why did he play with my feelings by developing a Morse Code-like system of thumps detectable by one of those handheld transmitters he stole from the Hephaestus cabin so we could talk anytime, anywhere?

Despite all of the ways he's hurt me, the most recent being this ploy with the sky, I feel a guilty pleasure from having his arms around me again. It's now that I realize, for the first time, I've never stopped loving this boy. I'm appalled at myself for having these emotions toward someone who's hurt me in more ways than I can count, but I might as well be honest. Before I can drown in pure pleasure, I regain enough sanity to remind myself of this: I am worth so much more than what he can give me. I must make the path to my heart as long and treacherous as possible through my willpower.

I must have blacked out while Luke was carrying me, because I suddenly wake up in a beautiful room. The bedsheets are silver silk with intricate gold images of the world's most famous architecture. Upholstery on couches and chairs throughout the room matches, and any wood in the room is a deep mahogany. The soft, rosy pink walls would not have been my first choice, but they bring out the other colors surprisingly well.

The most spectacular thing about this room is a gold spiral staircase leading up into a hole in the ceiling. And through it . . . massive bookshelves! I can't see the extent of it from where I lie, and sitting up makes my head spin.

When the world comes back into focus, I see a glass of nectar sitting on the bedside table and grasp it with trembling hands. I taste it and sigh, though not only from the physical bliss resonating through my body; the memories make my heart pound.

It was my first summer at Camp Half-Blood. I had only been there a week, so I still missed Thalia terribly. Since there were no kids my age at camp, I would sit reading under her tree for hours some days.

This hot afternoon, Luke came up and sat next to me with two glasses of lemonade. He held one out to me, and I grinned at the feel of perspiration on the ice cold glass. I knew he'd stolen it from that camp kitchens, but this hardly bothered me: Runaways are used to theft.

"For you, m'lady," Luke joked. I elbowed him.

"You know I'm not a princess, so don't call me lady!" I retorted. "I don't wear gowns and diamonds or rule people!"

"Your _my_ princess," he said with a ruffle of my hair. We clinked our glasses and drank.

Never again have I found lemonade that tastes like Luke's. Only nectar satisfies my taste buds quite that way. I remember it being delicious, perfect. So very different from the years to come.

I down the too-small glass and feel well enough to walk. I stand and stretch, unsure of where to go. I see a door and walk through it. All there is is a plain bathroom. After using it and freshening up a bit, I walk over to the other door in my room. I'm starting to feel a little drained, but I can handle it.

When I open the door, a strange sight awaits me. In a dirty cruise ship hallway stands Nathan Hamson, a half-blood who went missing about six months ago and has evidently changed sides, and an empousa. When they see me they each grab one of my arms and escort me down a long hallway without a word of explanation.

Even my highly-developed brain is having trouble keeping up with these rapid changes. Nothing makes sense. Before I can give too much thought to my questions, however, we reach the end of the hallway. The door the empousa opens doesn't seem to extraordinary. That is, until I look inside.

It's an office. That may sound dumb, but this office is one of my own design. Futuristic, with dark red light shining through the translucent frosted glass which makes the walls. The desk is made of obsidian and the chair in front of it of stainless steel. The luxurious armchair behind the desk is made out of stark black leather. This room was designed to intimidate, and I wonder how Kronos's army got my design. I only ever showed that old sketchbook to one person, and . . . and I know whose office this is before he turns his chair around.

"Leave us," he commands in an authoritative voice. As Nathan and the empousa hurry to obey, he also says, this time to me, "Sit."

I sink down to the cold metal chair as the door clangs shut behind me. The blue eyes glaring out at me soften slightly, but I continue my facade of an emotionless face. All my former best friend has ever done is lie to and manipulate me, so I can't let my guard down.

"Welcome," says Conner Atchinson, a son of Aphrodite I once knew from camp. He was a nice guy, but he always had some feelings of resentment boiling underneath until the day he left to join the enemy. I jump at the sound of his voice, and Luke points to a speaker on the ceiling as acknowledgement of the words from nowhere.

"For the tourists," he says as Conner describes events that passengers can take part in throughout the day. "We're slowly getting rid of them, but the ones we still haven't . . . _placed_ are securely under a thick veil of Mist."

I nod, my head spinning. I calculate my odds of both defeating Luke in a fight and making it off the ship alive, decide against the idea, and desperately search my brain for a strategy. I can talk myself out of this, I'm sure. I just have to play my cards right.

"Luke, why am I here?"

Okay, not exactly well-thought out words, but I need to know a little more about his intentions before I can try to gain the advantage. A smile teases the corner of his lips in response to my question, and I have an odd mixture of urges: to blush and to cringe.

"Annabeth," he eventually answers, "I'd like to apologize for the little incident with the sky. It wasn't the best plan, but I needed Artemis imprisoned. And, more importantly, I need _you _by my side. It was unforgivably selfish to go to such extremes, but I was desperate."

Luke needs me. The words hit me like a ton of bricks. It takes every ounce of self-control in me to remain stoic, to not rush into his arms and pledge my everlasting forgiveness. What's wrong with me? I thought I was so much stronger than this, but suddenly I find myself just as willing to leap back into his life without a second though as those prissy, materialistic girls I've always despised. I feel like the poster child for gender discrimination when I allow myself to become a plaything. I mean, he tricked me into crushing myself under the weight of the sky! In what universe should I trust him?

Luke continues, "Hear me out. I know I haven't been anywhere near what you deserve, but I'd like you to let me begin to make it up to you."

He looks at me for a reaction, but I remain rock hard. I will not be coerced this easily.

"Listen, Annabeth. Just pay attention for a minute. The gods are losing this war already. Kronos is closer to rising every day, and Atlas is already free and summoning other Titans. We have as many monsters as Tartarus can belch out, and minor gods and demigods alike continue to join our forces. You won't win, but I can offer a way out of being reduced to a prisoner of war, if you'll accept. Join me, Annabeth. I can make you the equivalent of a queen. Just join me."

I look through his eyes, into his mind the way only old friends can, but I can't read him. I can't accept whatever this trick is, right? I mean, the Titans are evil. Luke doesn't deserve another chance, whether I want to give him one or not. Even if Luke himself were worthy, I can't just turn my back on everything I care about.

Or maybe I can. Suddenly, in my mind's eye, I can see myself rebuilding the world how I want it, ridding humanity of its foulest traits and spattering the globe with monuments to last one thousand years. I could reconstruct a new world, bigger and brighter than the last.

I smile, and give Luke my answer.

.

**Chiron**

Chiron paces around the shooting range as he teaches archery to campers, going over the details of what Percy and Thalia had told him. Hunters here, two new demigods . . . Annabeth is missing.

"Marcus!"

The Apollo boy runs over, eager as ever to obey orders.

"Yes, sir!"

"I need you to run practice for awhile. I have much to do."

With that taken care of, Chiron gallops off to the strawberry fields. No one comes this way in the winter, so he can be alone with his thoughts for a bit. He gazes into the distance, toward the farms and woods of the mortal world. The serenity of nature helps clears his mind for a while, but after about ten minutes, someone behind him clears his throat. The teacher, assuming he will simply find a camper, turns calmly.

"Good morning, Chiron."

"L-luke?"

The centaur is rarely caught off guard, but the Iris message comes as a complete surprise. As he struggles to regain his composure, another shock hits him right in the face: Annabeth.

She stands right beside Luke with no restraints or guards. In fact, she looks content. Happy, even.

"What's the matter, you old horse, cat got your tongue?"

Annabeth laughs at Luke's jab. Chiron knows he should say something, anything, but he keeps looking at his little girl. Ever since she was seven, so much longer than the other half-bloods, Annabeth has been training and excelling. As a runaway, of course she's always been a year-rounder. The child has longed to lead a quest from day one, and only recently has Chiron been able to force himself to let her go into the outside world. And now she's been brainwashed. Chiron can blame only himself.

"You-you can't be serious!" the old teacher finally stutters. "What were you-when did you-why?"

When Annabeth remains unmoved by both Chiron's cracking voice and the tears forming in his eyes, Luke breaks the silence:

"You'll never win, Chiron," he says. "Annabeth saw our ranks and couldn't hesitate to join us. To join _me_. I just thought you deserved to know. Maybe if you ask nicely, I'll let you surrender now and save the lives of your precious campers."

"Never."

"Suit yourself. Just know that this was the last chance for you to avoid slaughter."

The two of them disappear. Chiron shuts his brain down, forces himself to remain emotionless the way he always has when heroes have died in the past. He will just have to readjust his battle plans, tell people-

Percy.

The centaur buckles over, nearly falling apart at the thought. The boy must know. Chiron can take him somewhere private after supper to tell him.

But first he should see the Hunters and Grover off on their quest.

.

**Annabeth**

Hurting Chiron sucked. No, it killed me. Seeing the way his face crumpled like a paper bag was like getting stabbed in the gut, but I couldn't risk letting Luke think I was disloyal.

So I went along with it, and now I'm just sitting in my room, too upset even to read. Did I really have to laugh at him? It was like I'd been possessed. Chiron would forgive me if only he'd known why, but telling him would have been far too risky. For now he and everyone else at camp will just have to think I'm as much of a monster as the Echidna below deck.

Maybe I am.


	2. Chapter 2

**Annabeth**

There is a knock on my door, and Kelly, the empousa who'd shown me into Luke's office earlier, saunters in looking irritated. She looks amazing, but I know enough about Greek mythology to stay back from the bloodthirsty she-demon.

"Oh, um, hi," I say, not sure exactly how to act now that I'm "evil."

"Dinner is ready," she spits venomously as she stalks back out the door and gestures at me to follow her. I have no idea why she's so pissed, but it doesn't take long to figure it out.

In one of the many rooms I haven't yet been in there is a massive . . . um, walk-in closet? I'm not sure how else to describe it; the little room contains rows and rows of formal dresses. Luke must want me to dress up for what could, based on Kelly's apparent jealousy, be a romantic evening. I've already made an enemy here.

Once the monster leaves me alone, I can choose a gown and change. Eventually, I decide on beauty in simplicity for my theme: The dress is long and navy blue, like the sea at midnight.

I freeze, the analogy bringing an unwelcome memory to mind. Percy and I were sitting on the beach last summer after our quest to the Sea of Monsters. It was late, because we had come here after dinner for hippocampi riding lessons, and now we were taking a quick breather before running all the way back to our cabins. I don't remember what we were even talking about, but it was the first time since Luke had turned that I'd felt safe.

I still keep the dress, bringing a memory of Percy to my date with his mortal enemy. Luke doesn't have to know what it means, and thinking of Seaweed Brain might help keep me calm. After all, I'm doing this for him.

Kelly is still waiting outside the door when I exit. I follow her down a staircase, through exquisite looking double doors, and into what must be the ship's token "fancy restaurant." A Mist-blinded mortal band plays soft music, and a certain blonde someone stands at the only set table, wearing a tuxedo. The lights are dim, and as Luke turns the candlelight behind him creates an almost angelic glow.

I catch my breath for a minute, just now remembering how I don't shave during the winter, that I haven't showered since who knows how long, and now I'm just standing here like an idiot. Luke pulls out a chair for me all gentlemanly and I sit, grateful for something to do. So does my "date," and for whatever reason his smile seems real.

"I'm sorry," he says when he sees me noticing him staring at me. "It's just . . . you're even more beautiful each time I see you."

That's so cheesy-I'm _beautiful? _Clever. I should roll my eyes and mock his lack of creativity, but I lose control for a moment and blush, stuttering out, "You don't mean that."

Luke frowns.

"You can't be serious," he says. "Annabeth, you're the moon, and the sun glows pale in comparison."

I smile at both the compliment and his butchered Shakespeare reference, but when our eyes meet and lock together, I'm thinking of someone else entirely.

"I just hate them," I growled. Percy, who had been sitting on the ground next to me, didn't get it.

"So they're airheads," he said. "So what?"

"They're just . . . so . . . perfect."

"Wait a second," Percy said. "Are you jealous?"

I looked down into my lap, then admitted, "I love being smart and all, but sometimes I just wish-well, that I could be as pretty as they are."

"Are you kidding me?" Percy laughed. "Look into a mirror, you idiot!"

That last sentence had really made me feel better. I sigh in content at the memory, and Luke takes it to mean a successful date on his part. I pull my thoughts away from Percy. Now would be a dangerous time to think about Seaweed Brain. To cover up my mental faux pa, I reach across the table and grab Luke's hand.

"So," I ask, "what's for dinner?"

Luke chuckles, and motions for a young demigod dressed as a waiter to come over. The boy shoots toward us, looking a little exhilarated yet completely terrified to be in the presence of his leader. For the first time, I stop and think about how this little arrangement might look to others on board. Their fearless leader, taking some prisoner out to dinner? Weird.

"G-good evening, s-sir." The boy glances at me out of the corner of his eye before returning his attention to Luke. "Ma'am."

"Thank you Kyle," Luke replies evenly. Kyle beams for a moment, then frowns.

"Um, C-caleb, sir," he mumbles.

"What was that?"

"Nothing! N-never mind!"

Caleb cowers under Luke's hard stare. Eventually, though, my date just sighs and glances at his menu, and our server deflates.

"We'll start out with breadsticks and a bottle of Spumante-Annabeth, you'll love that-and for the main course lobster bisque."

The boy scribbles it down hurriedly and dashes off. It kind of peeves me that Luke never asked my opinion, even though he already knows my favorite foods. This whole evening has sort of set my teeth on edge, to be honest: The special treatment, Kelly's ridiculous jealousy, how Luke treated that Caleb kid, now this-little by little, my pissiness has grown.

I smile, remembering at the last second not to blow my cover. If I let out any of my pent-up anger toward Luke, I will risk losing everything. He still doesn't know that I'm lying to him, gaining his trust to give Olympus an advantage in the oncoming war-and let's face it, the gods will need all the help they can get.

So I keep smiling and giggling like a girl in love throughout the night, and Luke remains completely oblivious.

.

**Mr. D**

Dionysus has always hated those stupid half-bloods, especially since his father, Zeus, sentenced him to help run that infernal camp. Running the camp would have been decent if it only consisted of playing pinnacle with his old teacher, Chiron, but those brat demigods have always ruined everything. And now he is off, saving the day again; the old centaur just made him leave to find Percy, who is running after the Hunters on their quest, just so the little boy wouldn't hurt his precious little feelings.

To be fair, though, Annabeth's betrayal had been a gigantic shock to everyone. ("Everyone" meaning the rest of the gods, seeing as how none of the campers know yet.) Mr. D was, in fact, was greatly surprised at this turn of events, though in hindsight it shouldn't have been surprising at all. The girl was silly, running after some hero just like Dionysus's wife had run after Theseus all those years ago.

The wine god softens a bit as he travels, thinking of beautiful, innocent Ariadne. He can't fathom why girls still haven't changed, after thousands of years. Why must they accept love so beneath what they deserve?

Grudgingly, Mr. D has to admit that Annabeth is-was-slightly less abominable to him than the other campers, perhaps because her love for Luke reminds him of how hard it was for poor Ariadne to get over the imbecile Theseus. Yes, because of this the daughter of Athena will always have a place in his heart.

Before the immortal can get all choked up, however, he's standing right behind Perseus Jackson. That boy may seem so righteous now, but give him a few years; he will turn out no better than Hercules or Theseus.

"God alert!" whinnies that infernal Pegasus. "It's the wine dude!"

Dionysus's vision turns red for a moment, but he forces himself to calm down beyond an exasperated sigh, saying only, "The next person, _or horse, _who calls me the 'wine dude' will end up in a bottle of Merlot!"

The arguing escalates, as it usually does when these two are together, and Dionysus can't think straight through his anger. Percy Jackson will certainly wind up hurting plenty of poor girls if he lives to become a "true hero," even if he doesn't get to mess up Annabeth first. So Mr. D lets the boy go, hoping bitterly that he will truly die on this quest.

Perhaps the god shouldn't have mentioned a subject as personal as Ariadne, but he had just wanted to instill a seed of doubt in Percy's irritating cockiness. Now it's too late to change anything, and how does that saying go again? Oh, yes: The past is in the past.


	3. Chapter 3

**Annabeth**

_I don't owe you anything;_

_You'll only die a dream forgotten!_

_I've got my pride, so hear me sing:_

_I'll never let you steal my coffin!_

Today is just one of those days where I have no choice other than to listen to heavy metal music. I sigh, too lazy to even pick up a book and read. Since my date last night with Luke, I've had absolutely nothing to do. It doesn't help that the Princess Andromeda is in the middle of a huge thunderstorm; those always make me want to watch black and white movies with some hot chocolate.

As stupid as it sounds, I can't get last night out of my head, and I'm not just talking about the part where I was pissed off at my date. I can't make myself forget that the way Luke was looking at me was the way all girls wanted to be looked at. I can't help but wonder if I'm doing the right thing here. I mean, of course I want to help Olympus, and I hate turning my back on my friends, but this is Luke I'm talking about. He was there for me when nobody else was. He was my family when I had no one.

Noon comes and goes, and my stomach growls loud enough that I'm glad to be alone. Since nobody's offered me lunch, I decide to go hunt for food myself. My room is no longer guarded, so in theory leaving should be easy. Should.

I'm hopelessly lost within fifteen minutes, and for some reason I just don't feel like asking flesh-eating monsters for directions. I should have asked Luke for a map or something, but oh well. I'll probably find something of use eventually.

BAM!

Someone rounds a corner at a sprint and smashes into me before I can get out of the way. I fall down, and the kid lands on top of me. A few seconds pass as we both catch our breath, then he scurries off of me.

"I-I'm so s-sorry! P-please don't get m-mad!"

The kid is practically on the verge of tears, and I recognize him as the server from last night. Kyle, or something. No-Caleb. That's what it was.

"Don't sweat it, kid," I say. He is stark white and shaking, clearly not used to forgiveness without a price tag, so I think fast to make something up to pacify him.

"Seriously," I insist. "It just so happens that I need someone to do me a favor."

Caleb nods eagerly. "Y-yes, ma'am. Anything!"

"Well, I'm a bit lost, and completely starving. Where can I get some lunch around here?"

The boy jumps up, finally accepting that I'm not mad. "This way, ma'am!"

"Annabeth," I say. He stares at me in confusion, so I elaborate, "You can call me Annabeth. Really. I just turned fourteen; I'm not old enough to be a ma'am."

"Oh, um, okay m-Annabeth."

The word sounds completely foreign on his tongue, but he'll get used to it. I just can't imagine having someone call me by a title like ma'am.

"The kitchen," announces Caleb as we enter a huge room with a dozen ovens, sinks out the wazoo, and two walk-in refrigerators. A few half-bloods and monsters are doing dishes, but my new friend and I are ignored completely, just how I like it.

"Thanks," I chirp, actually in a good mood at the prospect of food. "Hey, kid?"

"Yeah?" He doesn't look nervous anymore, just eager to please me.

"You don't happen to know where the pb&j materials are, do you?"

"Oh, yeah, sure. Here, I can get them!"

Caleb dashes around the kitchen, pulling out a jar of peanut butter from one place and a bottle of strawberry jelly from another. When he grabs bread and deposits the entirety of his findings on the counter in front of me, I raise an eyebrow in curiosity.

"How'd you know that strawberry jelly is my favorite?"

He blushes bright red and hurriedly tries to explain himself.

"Oh, well, I didn't, but General Castellan ordered some, you know, like right after you got here, so I kinda, um, assumed that you would like it."

"He ordered my favorite type of jelly when I came?"

Caleb nods at lightning speed in confirmation of my question, and I try not to frown.

"Hm. Weird."

"Um, Annabeth?" Caleb asks in curiosity as I scrunch up my face in annoyance.

"Yeah?"

"Well," he says. "I'm not trying to overstep my boundaries or anything, and I'm s-sorry if I'm going to far-"

"Spit it out."

He takes in a deep breath, then says, "It's just . . . aren't you guys, like, dating? Why is it a bad thing that he tried to get food you'd like?"

My heart skips a beat. _Di imortales, you stupid moron!_ I mentally shout at myself. _You are supposed to be acting like a ditsy girl in love, not acknowledging that Luke's evil!_

"Oh," I say, trying desperately to get rid of the deer in the headlights look I'm sure is plastered all over my face. _Think, think!_

"Well, I guess it's not that weird," I say stupidly. "It's just . . . I guess I'm not used to having a boyfriend. Sometimes romantic gestures are kind of lost on me, you know?"

"Okay."

Thank Olympus, the kid actually seems to believe me. Still, he seems confused about something. When he doesn't ask, I decide to take charge.

"You alright there?" I ask.

"What? Yeah, why?"

I shrug. "Nothing, really. You just look a little confused. Don't feel afraid to ask me a question. I promise I don't bite."

"Um." Caleb plays with his shirt a little. "You see, General Castellan never really referred to you as his girlfriend."

I raise an eyebrow, feeling an involuntary pang in my chest. What's wrong with me? Why should I care if Luke doesn't see me as more than just an old friend? After all, I am planning on betraying him. Still, after the way he held my hand last night, and then he called me beautiful . . .

I shake my head slightly to clear my thoughts, attempting to regain a little bit of mental composure as I ask, "What, ah, what exactly do you mean, Caleb? If not girlfriend, then what does Luke call me?"

The kid shrugs sheepishly. "It's not really important, and-"

"Tell me. Now."

"He calls you his queen!" he squeaks out, shaking from the firmness and anger of my tone. I soften at the boy's shock, ready to apologize for freaking him out, but then the actual words he spoke register in my mind.

"Wait a minute," I say. "Queen? You mean like as a pet name or something, right?"

Caleb shakes his head.

"Um, no, actually. You see, Mister Castellan says he is going to be a pretty big deal once the war is over. Apparently he's going to have a lot of control, almost like a king, he says. And he wants you to be his queen."

I frown, realizing that I might know even less about my friend's plan than I'd thought. The word "queen" sends shivers down my spine as I wonder what has gotten into Luke's messed-up head.

.

**Athena**

She is so tired of arguing with Poseidon. If anything, Athena just wants to go take a nap. Perhaps such an action is not the most becoming of a goddess of her stature, but the spawn of the sea can be so irritating at times.

"Poseidon," she finally says. "With all due respect, I must retire for the evening. We can restart this infernal feud tomorrow if you insist, but for now I am exhausted, and I'm an immortal. I technically should not have physical exhaustion!"

"Hey, this is _your_ daughter we're talking about! You don't just get a 'Get Out of Jail Free' card!" he retorts.

"Oh, just give it a rest!" Athena exclaims. "We all know the real reason you keep insisting on punishing Annabeth."

"Oh, yeah?" challenges Poseidon. "And just what might that be?"

"You just don't want to see little Perseus deal with the heartbreak of knowing that his crush betrayed him."

The god of the sea clenches and unclenches his fists repeatedly, trying to hold in his anger.

"Listen," he finally says. "Your daughter is a traitor to Olympus, and you keep defending her, saying that it was her choice. If choices should just go unpunished as you're suggesting, I can't help but wonder what _your_ choices are. Where _your_ loyalties lie."

Athena does not lose her temper. Ever. However, this accusation is too much. She stalks across the throne room, the fire in her eyes causing everyone else in the room to involuntarily shrink back.

"You did not just disrespect me in that way," she growls. Poseidon actually drops his anger scowl for an expression of fear.

"Oh, yes," the goddess continues. "I, of all people, am the one who would be against the Olympians here. In case you don't remember, I was the one who caused the Romans to adopt us when they conquered Greece. I was cast aside like rubbish in the process because I was too busy working to answer prayers, but I did my duty and saved us all in the process. I have been nothing but loyal throughout the millennia, but you? You, Poseidon, who tried to overthrow your brother Zeus twice. You, who broke a vow on the river Styx which now jeopardizes our very existence just to have sex with a pretty mortal. Perhaps it is you we shouldn't trust."

Athena turns and walks out of the throne room, leaving their thoughts to stir and brood. On the threshold, however, she cannot resist turning around and leaving her family with one final thought.

"You all do realize that Annabeth is not a daughter of Aphrodite, am I right? Have any of you even considered the possibility that, rather than being love struck over the first boy to bat his eyelashes, she may have chosen to use her kidnapping to her advantage-to all of ours?"

"Athena," Zeus says cautiously. "What are you saying?"

"It is entirely possible that Annabeth is gathering information about the enemy for us, and you are repaying her by plotting her execution."

.

**Annabeth**

I spend a couple hours goofing off with Caleb in the arcade. (I guess using a cruise ship as headquarters has its advantages.) We laugh over a game of Pacman, but as we sit down at a table in the corner to take a break our conversation turns serious.

"You know, I've never been to Camp Half-Blood," Caleb admits. "What's it like?"

"Wonderful."

The word escapes my mouth before I can stop it. Caleb raises his eyebrows in surprise.

"Really?" he asks. I nod, deciding that I can't do much harm by describing my home.

"Yeah. The strawberry fields always make the whole camp smell great in the summer, for one thing. You can train in anything you want-archery, sword play, you name it. And every night in the summer, there's a big bonfire. We always roast marshmallows and sing cheesy campfire songs. It's the best."

Caleb closes his eyes, imagining it all, then asks, "Is it better than here?"

I answer honestly, not bothering to think about what I'm saying.

"Yeah."

I freeze for a moment, realizing that I don't really know Caleb that well, and add, "Except for the people. Sure, having space and free time the way they do at Camp Half-Blood is great and all, but I never really fit in with the people there. And the gods would constantly ask for us to go on stupid quests for their own selfish purposes."

Caleb nods in understanding, and I drop it, assuming that he isn't suspicious. This is the biggest mistake of my life.

**.**

**Caleb**

He hurries down the hallway, sweating like a pig. Annabeth is really nice, but Caleb would rather betray her than General Castellan. He's worked too hard for too long to throw away his spot in the Titan army.

Caleb knocks on his boss's office door, and is granted admittance. The leader of the whole army is right there, all alone in a room with Caleb. The boy blinks hard, twice, before speaking.

"Sir, I was talking to Ms. Chase today."

General Castellan sits forward, instantly interested. "Continue."

"Well," Caleb says, "I was asking her about the c-camp she used to go to, expecting some cool horror story or something, and, um, she said some things."

"What kinds of things?"

Caleb shrinks back from the general, who now looks downright murderous. He shouldn't have come.

"W-well, sir, she s-said that she really m-missed the c-camp, and, um, I don't think she r-really meant anything, b-but-"

"Stop talking." General Castellan rubs his forehead, and he actually looks hurt. Caleb didn't know he was capable of that kind of emotion.

"Sir?"

"Tell her to meet me for dinner in my suite, casual attire. We have much to discuss."


	4. Chapter 4

**Annabeth**

Caleb is very jumpy when he tells me to meet Luke for dinner. I feel bad for the kid; he's so young, so afraid of the side he's on. I don't know how to help him, but I wish I could somehow. Maybe, when I leave here, I can take him to Camp Half Blood with me.

"Thank you, Caleb," I say with a smile to calm his nerves. "It's just down the hall, right?"

"Y-yes."

"Hey." I put a hand on his shoulder. "Is something wrong? You can tell me. I promise I won't get you in trouble."

"I-I shouldn't t-tell you this, b-but...you're s-so nice to me. I-I'm sorry."

Now I'm starting to get nearly as afraid as Caleb. "What did you do?"

He winces, then spurts out in a machine gun fire confession, "I told General Castellan what you told me about the other camp!"

He talks himself in circles, apologizing over and over again. I tune him out. How can I fix this at dinner? Surely, I can make this sound like an innocent comment! Yeah...I lived at Camp Half Blood for seven years. I mean, I even kind of missed my dad when I ran away, even though I had no desire to leave my new home.

"It's fine," I say, interrupting Caleb. "It's not like I said anything wrong, right? I lived at my camp for a very long time. I have every right to miss a place I've lived for most of my life. You've done nothing to hurt me, Caleb."

The boy nods vigorously, eager for a way out.

"Yeah!" he says. "I didn't do anything wrong. Right!"

"Alright, then," I say, smiling in spite of the fear forcing its way into my gut. "Now can you leave me alone while I get ready?"

He scurries out, and I am alone. I let myself feel the fear now.

I've been lying to and deceiving my enemy in wartime. If Luke somehow finds out that I don't support Kronos, I could be killed. Knowing my best friend, he would not hesitate no matter how he feels about me.

Still, I try not to show it as I leave later that night. It's seven thirty when I arrive at Luke's suite, and his reassuring smile does nothing to ease my feelings of fear.

Dinner is uneventful, and by the time we're done I don't remember most of it. I'm wound up like a spring, and it takes all of my willpower to engage in casual smalltalk. I'm wondering if I've actually gotten off free when Luke asks me to accompany him into a side room.

"Sure," I say with false enthusiasm.

I don't know what's going to happen, so I try to be prepared for anything. What I see, though, is too much to keep that calm demeanor I've been striving for all night.

James Knight was Luke's friend at Camp Half-Blood, the one who Luke appointed second in command of the Hermes cabin. He rose to head counselor when Luke abandoned ship, and was one of the greatest doubters of Luke's betrayal. Now, he's tied up in the dark room that Luke has lead me to. His eyes shine with terror.

"Annabeth." Luke's eyes seem black and cold in the dim light. "Some of my crew has been worried that you are not nearly as big a part of the cause as you claim to be. I, of course, trust you, but a display of your support will gain you more trust here."

"What's this about?" I whisper. He smiles slightly, and holds out a dagger.

"Here, Annabeth," he says. "Kill this prisoner. Prove to everyone that you truly belong here. Do not disappoint me."

I turn from Luke and face James, who is whimpering, begging me for mercy with his eyes. I shake my head.

"No." My voice cracks. "No, Luke, I can't. This is wrong."

He sighs as if unsurprised. "Have it your way."

Before I can protest, Luke stabs his knife into the innocent boy's chest. I cover my mouth as a scream escapes. James slumps back against the wall, dead.

"What have you done!" I shriek. "He was your friend! How could you do that?"

Luke grabs my arm painfully tight as he drags me from that side room. I trip over my feet as he throws me forward. I hit the ground hard and cry out, but his angry sneer doesn't flinch for a moment.

"Luke, wait!" I shout. "Please, I-"

"_I did not give you permission to speak!" _he roars. I fall silent, and Luke lowers his voice slightly. "I put my trust in you, Annabeth! I thought that you, of all people, would have my back! And then you betray me by putting ideas into my crew's minds about the joys of Camp Half-Blood, and you can't even follow a simple order against a traitor!"

He hefts the knife, which is still covered in James's blood, and kneels down beside me. This boy, the closest thing I have is completely insane. I try to keep the tears out of my eyes, but a few cruel rebels trail down my cheeks. I'm not even ready to die at the hands of a monster; I sure as poop schnitzel can't handle my best friend murdering me in cold blood!

"Annabeth," Luke whispers. His voice is low and dangerous, but my hope peaks when I see his eyes begin to water ever so slightly. There is still a chance that he cares about me enough to spare my life.

"Why?" he continues in an agonized growl. "Why would you betray me like that? I thought we were supposed to be family."

I blink tears out of my eyes, suddenly angry.

"You betrayed me first."

I watch the emotions play out across Luke's face like a movie, first confused as he processes what I've said, then pained as it sinks in. He stands slowly and turns away before speaking again.

"So it seems we're in a bit of a difficult situation." His voice cracks with remorse as he talks. "I can't keep you around because you will never turn against your precious camp, and I will never be able to kill you as long as you insist on being so incredibly perfect."

"Yes," I agree. "This is...difficult."

He turns back to me and extends a hand to help me up. We stare into each other's eyes, and both say at the same time:

"I'm sorry."

We hug and shed a few unheroic tears. Then Luke has to put me in a cell, and I have no choice but to act as a hostage when Percy and Luke face off the next day on Mount Tamalpais.


End file.
